The family gathered for Stefan's 25th birthday last night and it was nothing short of bizarro.
Stef had been pre-drinking with his friend Kevin (who according to news reports recently has the worst name for dating) and he spent most of the evening snoring in the chair.
Meanwhile Nick and his best buddy Vaughan were passing The Little Peanut around and discussing feeding schedules, diaper contents and the proper disciplinary practices for toddlers.
I felt like I was in the middle of a Mommie and Me clatch.
I'm getting the feeling that there is a whole new attitude towards childrearing amongst modern day twenty-something males. My guys seem really into the whole process.
It is my great belief that Nick would breastfeed if he could.
No wonder Stef, the single man about town, was sleeping!
It's amazing to watch my son now that he has become a father. He's pretty hilarious.
He would tell you himself, if you asked, that he is a complete klutz. He put Peanut in the car seat to take her to the baby doctor and he trapped her in it. He spilled formula all over the floor then had to run up to give me the baby to prevent Jenkins the cat from lapping it up.
The boy simply has no idea how to multitask.
Today, he will be doing baby laundry and I've given him money to get a hair cut. I don't think he's washed his hair -- which is ugly and long -- since before Peanut stuck her little head out.
I caught him today wearing Shyla's clothes because he'd lost his jacket, which was upstairs with us all along.
He looked for all the world like a cross dressing monkey.
At least his intentions are good.
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